You Hold The Hour & The Intentional Voyeur
by Katie Havok
Summary: Newt stares at her blankly before hiding his face in his hands. "I'm never leaving this bedroom," he laments with a groan. / Queenie knows she's close to home when Tina's cool-toned essence begin to color her thoughts. She smiles to herself as she realizes that Tina's navy is interspersed with a familiar, bronze-accented azure.
1. Chapter 1

Originally posted on Ao3 on November 18th, 2017 and is being included here for the sake of my ego.

 **Warning: smut** , as well as some voyeurism via legilimency. ;)

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Tina finds him on the abandoned docks, staring at his pocket watch with a furrowed brow.

"Newt!" His head jerks up, eyes centering on her as his watch snaps closed. He tucks it into his waistcoat pocket before sharing a crooked but delighted smile.

"Tina." His voice is soft and warm, and he takes her arm when she stumbles to a halt before him. Newt anxiously examines her face while shifting from one foot to the other, knuckles white around the handle of his case. His brow smoothes as he reaches up to cup her cheek, his smile strengthening. "I am… _very_ glad to see you."

Tina covers his hand with her own while ducking her head. "I'm so sorry I'm late," she tells his battered boots. "I...the meeting ran over. You know how it is with government work." He sweeps a soothing crescent over her cheek with his calloused thumb before bending to set down the case. His other hand rises to frame her face, and he's smiling when she chances looking at him, though his eyes are sober.

"You forget," Newt murmurs, "that I am the little brother of the Director of Magical Law Enforcement in England." Both his thumbs stroke her now, and her eyes drift closed when she clenches his lapels, steadying herself. He sighs a little raggedly, shifting closer. "I am very much used to people running behind for social callings."

The constant _tick-tock_ of his pocket watch is loud in her ears when he falls silent. Tina's fingers tangle in the fabric of his jacket as the tip of his nose circles her own. She senses his smile when he leans in, and she inhales his comforting scent of dust and parchment and bitter herbs as their lips touch.

"You've no need to worry on my account," Newt whispers against her mouth. "Because you're already forgiven."

Tina gasps and curls her toes in anticipation before deepening the kiss. He follows her lead eagerly, lips parting with a sigh as he cards his fingers through her hair. She steps into him until their bodies are flush when he brushes her tongue with his own, before dragging his lips over her cheek and jaw.

 _"Tina,"_ Newt says, voice low and languid, and she can feel the growing tension in his frame. She tips her head back in wordless invitation, and there's a scary moment when she thinks he'll rebuff her and move away. Instead, he swallows audibly before warm, dry lips skim the ridge of her throat, kissing a slow path down her neck to rest over her fluttering pulse.

She releases the lapels of his omnipresent blue jacket to slide a hand over his waistcoat. She toys with the fine buttons on his shirt before gently pressing on his chest, just over his heart. Newt hums when she squeezes the firm swell of his pectoral appreciatively before dragging his mouth back to hers, sealing them together.

His heart rate increases against her palm when she wraps her other arm around his shoulders. Newt frees one hand from her tangled hair to slide it around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer until she can no longer discern where she ends and he begins. He possessively splays his fingers over the small of her back and sighs when Tina nibbles his lower lip before releasing him. His gaze is dark and half-lidded when she opens her eyes, his hungry pupils fixed on her.

Newt doesn't shy away from her frank inspection. Instead, he slowly leans in, swallowing hard before gathering the fabric at the small of her back and reclaiming her mouth. She whines into the kiss while sliding her hands up his chest and throat to his shoulders. It's his turn to whine when she weaves her fingers through his riotous hair, relishing the coarse texture while gently scraping his scalp.

He shifts with a low sound, and Tina closes her eyes on instinct at the familiar squeezing pressure until the quality of the air surrounding them _changes_. Tina opens her eyes to take in her bedroom, golden with late afternoon sunlight, before humming delightedly. Newt offers no resistance when she tugs him insistently toward the bed, and he's there to catch her when she stumbles over the throw rug before whispering her name.

She breathes his back to him and he plucks it from her mouth to swallow the sound. Tina gasps when she miscalculates the distance and the back of her legs unexpectedly impact the edge of the bed, hard enough to tip her off-balance. Gravity does the rest, and Newt is dragged along with her as she tumbles backward. He manages to get a knee onto the mattress in time to break their fall, one slender hand cradling her hip like something precious as he lays her out.

He hesitates then, eyes wide in his ruddy face until Tina uses what little leverage she has to haul him over her.

"It's okay," she murmurs, not really sure which one of them she's trying to convince, only knowing it's the right thing to say. "I want this. So much. I..." She cuts herself off with a gasp when his weight settles on her, carefully distributed over her largest muscle groups, and grins when he leans in for a kiss. They share a sigh at the contact, lips sliding together hungrily.

Tina runs her hand up the front of his shirt, toying with his buttons before fingering his bowtie. Newt groans and presses his lips to her jaw when she tugs it loose before opening the button at his throat. He moves with her when she lifts her head to kiss the edge of his collar, guiding his hands to where her pinstripe duster lays open.

He touches her in fleeting brushes, kissing the divot at the base of her throat and smiling against her skin when she produces low, pleased sounds before slipping down to kiss her sternum through her blouse. His touch is soft and dry, the slight scrape of his stubble a pleasant counterpoint to his lips. She abandons his shirt to clutch his head, moaning as he moves incrementally lower, tugging aside her blouse until he reaches the lacy edge of her shift.

Newt laves the border between skin and fabric with damp kisses while Tina wrestles with the confines of her skirt to free her legs. He groans when she wraps her thighs around his waist before pressing his cheek to her chest.

"Tina, _Tina_ ," Newt mumbles frantically. "Are you sure you want to do that?" He pushes himself up on his palms to take in her face, temporarily displacing her legs. Tina slides her hands around his shoulders to squeeze reassuringly.

"I'm sure I don't want to _stop_ ," she says and takes hold of his wrist. "And I'm sure I want you to touch me. _Please_." He doesn't resist when she guides his hand to her hemline. His hooded eyes flicker between her face and her clothing in obvious indecision before gathering her skirts with a rustle of fabric. Newt holds her gaze as he pushes the garment past her hips, and they shiver together when his calloused palm molds to the inner curve of her thigh before plucking at her garter.

She slides her fingers up and down the lapels of his jacket when he rubs her skin, his hand slowly working _inward_. He leans in to kiss her when she squeezes his waist with her other leg until he fingers the lace edge of her step-ins and she sighs in welcome.

Tina gasps his name as he works her over, sometimes grinding and sometimes fingering, _always_ inspiring pleasure. Her hips roll autonomously when he presses more insistently, movements short and jerky as he shoves the rest of her skirt out of the way. Newt rocks back onto his haunches to better touch her as Tina indulges in a few blissful moments of selfishness, setting her nerves endings alight before rising onto her elbow.

"It's not only about me, Newt," she whispers with a smile and slides her hands over the fabric covering his stomach to the waist of his trousers. He rolls his head forward to watch, his own ministrations temporarily forgotten when she pops the buttons on his fly. Noon sunlight illuminates dappled flesh when she parts brown wool and white linen to reach inside and touch him. He groans at the first brush of her hand, eyes squeezing shut as he pants for breath before leaning over her on stiff arms.

Newt supports himself with one hand as the other opens his waistcoat. Tina sighs encouragingly when he unbuttons his shirt to the navel, revealing an expanse of bronze, toned skin, before leaning in to claim her mouth. He kisses her hungrily as she circles him and _his_ fingers find her wet, tender flesh. He moans against her lips when she strokes him until he's trembling in her arms and she breaks away to mouth at his jaw.

"Tina," Newt rasps, and she can feel his words. "I don't mean to presume, but...if you keep doing that then, er...how far are we taking this?" She can feel the effort it costs him to speak, so she moves her hands away while tipping her head back to kiss him.

"We can go as far as we want," she murmurs comfortingly when he gasps before sliding her fingertips over his chest. "I want you. I think that's obvious. And you want me. So…" He huffs in disbelief, and she has to hide her smile when he settles lower over her, pressing his face into her shoulder. "I think we should do what comes naturally. Don't you?"

She proves the point by squeezing him before pushing his trousers down. They are startlingly close from this angle, mere inches apart, and she can feel the humid warmth he puts out. He gropes a hand down to cover hers while leaning on his elbow, and she meets his eyes when he lifts his head.

"Are you positive this is what you want?" Newt voice is rich and low, distinctive accent thickened by desire, and she trembles briefly before pinching his flat, dark nipple.

"Only if you are," she promises and rolls her hips enticingly.

He blinks down at her before squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them, she can see that his decision has been made, and she tries not to gloat as he kisses her neck and chest.

Tina moves to assist when he tugs her blouse from the waistband of her skirt, moaning as tender lips trace the edge of her corselet to the curve of her breast. She strains her sheer camisole, and he dampens his mouth before wrapping his lips around a dusty nipple. Tina arches into him with a low cry, the wet blotch he leaves behind making her shiver when he shifts his attention to the other side.

Tina curls her fingers around the thick weave of his jacket as he nips and teases before moving up to her mouth. They kiss deeply as he settles between her thighs, her head rocking back with a gasp when he takes himself in hand. She meets his eyes with a soft litany of, "Yes, yes, please," as he teases her core before pressing them together.

She feels herself stretching around him, his arms trembling in reaction. Newt holds still to allow her time to adjust once he's seated, eyes screwed shut. Tina tugs his shirt from his trousers to drag her fingertips over the hard lines of his stomach, delighting in the way his muscles jump and skitter beneath her touch, before embracing his shoulders. He sighs as she pulls him close, and his eyes are open when he brushes his lips against hers.

"It's okay," she whispers into his mouth and twitches her hips invitingly. "You can move. I won't break." He groans while shifting slightly, testing the way he slides into her, before smoothly drawing his hips back. Tina gasps as he deftly releases her garter, sharing a sigh when he anchors forward while slipping his fingers beneath the silk edge of her stocking.

Newt's brow furrows when he groans in his chest. "I'm not afraid of you _breaking_ ," he clarifies in a low voice and drops his head to watch where they come together as he builds a rhythm. "Only of hurting you." Touched, Tina wraps a leg around his waist, prompting him to moan when he sinks deep enough to bottom out. " _Merlin_ ," he growls, and she smirks while gathering the fabric of his coat to pull him close.

"Please kiss me." He does so with an eagerness that makes her sigh, bracing a fist against the mattress while his other arm slides around her shoulders. She holds him close as they rock together, pressing her hips up to meet him until he spreads a long-fingered hand over her stomach. She groans when his thumb centers over her clit, pulling back just far enough to drink in her expression as he touches her in quickening brushes.

Tina gasps his name when her orgasm swells from someplace deep within, a series of ever-increasing spasms that gradually ebb away into euphoria. He presses steadily between her legs as she comes, riding her through her pulsations until she sags into the mattress.

Newt tips their foreheads together when he ramps up the intensity of his thrusts, and Tina, sated and wishing only to watch him come apart in her hands, twines their fingers while kissing him.

"Tina," he gasps against her lips. "Love, can I—may I...how shall I end this?" He squeezes his eyes shut with a groan when a tremble works through him. Tina, knowing instinctively what he seeks, rocks her hips up to wrap both legs around him.

"You can stay," she murmurs and pushes her fingers through his hair when he groans. "I want to feel you."

He nods before hooking his elbow in the bend of her knee, changing the angle of his thrusts and keening in the back of his throat. Tina presses her hips up to meet him, gasping at the renewed intensity of her own pleasure as he anchors himself to her shoulder.

She surrenders to orgasm for a second time, moaning his name as she quivers around him. Newt grinds his forehead into her chest and, with a choked-off groan, shudders deeply before going still, tumbling messily after her.

Silence in the aftermath of passion spent, save for the harsh rasps of their breathing. Newt supports himself on trembling arms to kiss her deeply, licking the light sweat off her lips before pressing his face into her throat. Tina smoothes his hair off his damp brow to cup his cheek as he measures his breathing. He drags gentle fingertips over her neck to her chest, pushing aside her jacket to allow her skin to cool before kissing her forehead.

"Are you all right?" His voice is soft and gentle. She closes her eyes with a nod as he withdraws from her, shivering slightly at the drag of over-sensitized flesh against flesh. Warm fluid trails behind him, and he huffs a breathless species of laughter before using a murmured spell to clean her up. He rolls off of her to recline over the mattress, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulder as she curls around him.

Newt's pocket watch is loud in her ear when she presses her head against his chest. It competes with the steady beating of his heart, slowing even as she listens, and the regular _whoosh_ of his breathing. His thumb rasps where it rubs her shoulders and even the fan of her lashes against his tweed waistcoat makes a very soft _ssssh_ sound when she blinks.

Smiling slightly, she reaches into the hidden pocket to check the time, only to freeze when her fingers encounter something small and velvety, square, and decidedly _not_ a watch. She taps it curiously to hear it's hollow _thunk_ before raising a pointed eyebrow to his face, only to find Newt blushing deeply while looking away.

"That's not, um," he mumbles and fingers the edge of his jacket nervously. Tina lifts her head to give him the stern look that's always worked effectively on his dissembling and is not disappointed. He gulps but manages to meet her eyes despite the pink lacing his cheeks and ears.

"I hadn't intended to ask you like this," Newt whispers hoarsely. Tina can feel her expression softening when he hesitantly reaches out to take her hand, his other moving to indicate the expanse of the rumpled bed and their state of undress. "Actually, I didn't plan for _any_ of this, if I'm being honest."

Tina kisses his partially-bare chest before smiling into an enticing patch of freckles. He huffs out a shaky laugh while raising a heavy hand to smooth down her hair. "I don't suppose I can ask you to forget about what you just discovered until I'm ready?" he asks in a wobbly voice. She tips her chin back to look at him, finding straight, pale lips and wide green eyes.

Feeling expansive and generous, she stretches to kiss the shelf of his jaw before showing a slow smile. "I've forgotten already," she whispers while gently nipping at his skin. "I'm not even sure what we're talking about."

Newt closes his eyes at the press of her teeth, gathering her close. "That's good," he murmurs and digs into his pocket to pull out the timepiece, fumbling at the tricky latch to expose the dial long enough for her to read the time. Then it gets tucked away with shaky fingers before he taps them rhythmically against her upper arm. "Do you have to hurry back to work, Tina?"

She shakes her head before laying her cheek against his chest. "No, I don't," she murmurs and smiles when he sighs in obvious relief. "I just wanted to make sure we were presentable when Queenie came home."

He shifts to finally shrug off his blue jacket while loosening his cuffs. "And when will that be?" he asks in a lazy tone. Tina bites her cheek to hide a smirk, controlling her expression with some difficulty while examining her fingernails.

"About ten minutes ago," she confesses with relish. There's a long, heavy pause from him. Then he groans in understanding before gently pushing her upright.

"So that means," Newt murmurs while sitting up, "that she's… _heard_ everything that's happened between us these last few minutes." Her smirk escapes the confines of her control to become a full-fledged grin, exposing her dimple, and he stares at her blankly before hiding his face in his hands. "I'm never leaving this bedroom," Newt laments with a groan.

Tina laughs loudly before taking his wrists. "It's not so bad," she cajoles. "I promise, it's _not_. She won't tease, not even about—" she cuts herself off to bite her lip, and he looks at her skeptically from between his fingers before sighing heavily. His hands go to his loose waistcoat, rumpled from their activities, to draw out an unassuming box. It's purple with a hinged lid and distinctly worn velvet edges, as if it's seen many months of hard travel.

Tina has to remind herself to breathe when he looks down at it musingly, holding his breath. Then his eyes meet hers, and she jolts at the depth of emotion she finds in them.

"You don't have to say it," she whispers and covers his unsteady hand with her own. "I know what you want to ask me, and the answer is yes. _Yes_ , Newt. I'll take you as my own if you still want me."

"I could never _not_ want you," he murmurs reflectively and leans close. "Especially now."

The words are formed against her lips before he kisses her, a gentle press that speaks of longing and promise for the future. She pulls away only long enough to allow him to slip the precious ring onto her third finger, where it is a perfect fit. She holds him close when he sighs shakily and hides his face in her hair.

"My Tina," Newt breathes, and tears sting her eyes when she crawls into his lap.

"Yes," she affirms. "And you're _my_ Newt." His breath hitches with joy until he reasserts control of himself. They linger for a few blessed moments before a soft sound from without, the gentle lilt of singing, reaches their ears, where they turn as one to glance at the door before sharing a patient look.

"We should go," he whispers, cradling her jaw.

"We should," she agrees, making no move to get up. Her new ring glints in the light of the westering sun, and he reaches out to touch it in wonder before sliding his hands over her hips.

"Maybe we should stay _here_ , instead," he suggests in a musing tone. Tina gasps when the implication of his words sink in, before leaning to kiss him. "Do you mind if your sister _hears_ us some more?" he asks in a rough voice when she traces a ropey scar on his shoulder.

Tina shakes her head hard enough to send her hair flying. "No, I don't care one bit," she breathes, and his hand slides up her side to cup her breast as he lays back, dragging her with him.

"Good. That's good," Newt says and allows her to shove his shirt aside to bite his nipple.

"Let's blow her mind," she whispers when she comes up for air, and knows she's made the right choice when he laughs delightedly before tugging her in for a kiss.

"Yes, _let's_ ," Newt gasps into her mouth, and joyfully sets upon the task of making her forget all about her sister.


	2. Chapter 2

It's the overlapping crush of voices in her skull that prompts her to leave.

Queenie begs off work on account of a headache and Director Graves, one of the few who knows about her latent abilities, takes one look at her strained, too-pale face before agreeing to cut her loose for the day. She thanks him honestly, making a mental note to bake a batch of the blueberry muffins he likes so well and makes good her escape.

Most people wouldn't think of the New York streets as being peaceful, but compared to the red calamity of the Woolworth Building, she finds blessed relief in the thrum and bustle of people and automobiles. Here, she can turn off her incessant mind and block out the unwelcome intrusion of strangers. Here, she can find some small measure of peace.

She knows she's close to home when Tina's cool-toned essence begin to color her thoughts. She smiles to herself as she picks up the peaceful blue hum of her sisters' deep contentment, before realizing that Tina's navy is interspersed with a familiar, bronze-accented azure.

 _Newt's here. I wonder if Teenie knew he was coming; she didn't say anything to me, and she sure wasn't thinking about it…_

It isn't until she hangs up her jacket that she understands the reason for the surprise visit. Then she clasps her hands between her breasts when a wave of pure white contentment, coming from the couple cloistered in the bedroom, washes over her. _A weddin', oh! Mr. Scamander, if you could see what I see right now, you'd understand that you ain't gotta worry 'bout a thing!_ Tina's thoughts are lit up with radiant blues and greens, the color of her joy a delightful contrast to Newt's satisfied bronze and gold.

Queenie kicks off her shoes to slip her feet into comfortable mules while tuning out their thoughts as best she can. She's left with colorful impressions, a series of ever-changing lights in the back of her brain as she sets about tidying up the small apartment, voice raised in joyous song.

It isn't until she pours herself a glass of milk that she realizes the rainbow of their thoughts has been slowly eclipsed by a deep, pulsating red.

She knows this color, the rich ochre hue of arterial blood. Tina's dreamt it more than once now, and always in association with Newt. Interestingly, the red of his passion is deeper, the tone of dark African clay. It swirls and blends with Tina's until they are a red-to-red veil in the back of her mind and Queenie, intrigued, allows herself to _go deeper_ into them to gain a better understanding.

 _Tina is afraid—not of Newt, but of the enormity of what she feels for him. The dove gray core of her being is heavy with the red of passion, the white of unbridled joy, and the violet representing just how determined she is to get this right. Her deep love for Newt is a glimmering yellow sun, shining in bright sway over all the colors of simple want. She manages to push aside her nervousness when he leans in and touches her, kisses her, makes her his own._

 _Newt's azure center is calm and peaceful, a stormless port overlaid with an earthy brown that speaks of want and need. Through him, Queenie can feel the texture of Tina's skin, her flavor coating his tongue. She can feel the white of his happiness, the green of his lingering doubts banished by the black of surety. His love for Tina shines brightly over even all of that, a steadily pulsating silver moon that hangs in the sky of his being as he drinks in what she so unselfishly gives._

Queenie withdraws far enough to give them their privacy, but she's there when Tina says those words to him for the first time, those _three little word_ s that he plucks from her mouth before she's barely had the chance to articulate them. She smirks into her milk when Newt presses his mouth to Tina's ear and says all the things he's held back for far too long. She smiles and giggles in turn when clothes are removed at last and promises are renewed, until her mind slips into a state of gentle snow and she drifts, unfocused, to buoy along the waves of their shared pleasure.

She comes back to herself as the red of their passion recedes, dwindling alongside sleepy, sated kisses and gentle praise. The first thing Queenie sees, when vision returns to her eyes, is Newt's scarf—piled innocuously beside Tina's gray jacket through a crack in the bedroom door.

 _It's a good color for them,_ she thinks absently. _His confidence, and her love. They compliment each other. If only I could tell them..._

She senses that the couple in the bedroom is getting ready to leave their little sanctuary, but not before indulging in a lingering kiss. Overjoyed, Queenie flicks her wand to summon a chicken she's kept in stasis for a special occasion and sets the table with their good china as she directs vegetables to chop.

The door creaks open, and she waits until pink tendrils of surprise color their thoughts before glancing up. Newt is hovering awkwardly in the doorway, feet bare and hair in crazy corkscrews about his head. Tina stands behind him, arms crossed defiantly over her chest, wearing her dressing robe, a scowl and little else.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Scamander!" Queenie chirps and arranges her face into a beaming smile. "I didn't know you was comin', otherwise I woulda picked up a bottle of wine." She glances at Tina, who raises a challenging eyebrow, before honing in on the small, unassuming ring adorning her sister's finger. Her smile widens and brightens. "'Specially now that we got somethin' to celebrate. Don't we, sis?"

"Queenie…" Tina says warningly as Newt's ears turn a delicate, lacy pink. "We know you've been home. Did you stay out of our heads?"

"Sure I did," she lies glibly and knows they've bought it when their thoughts calm and meld into matching amber pools. Smirking to herself, Queenie opens the small spice cupboard to fetch the rosemary and garlic, watching the couple from the corner of her eye before teasing very gently.

"'Course," she clarifies, "that doesn't mean I don't have any idea what you two was doin', 'cause I do. I'm pretty sure the entire _neighborhood_ could have picked up on that." She drops Newt, who's gone a wholly-predictable shade of beetroot, a conspiratorial wink before shifting her attention to Tina. Her sister looks suddenly strained and Queenie, contrite, softens her smile into something pure. "I'm happy for you, sis," she whispers and means it.

She turns her attention back to the chicken, allowing the two newly-discovered lovebirds some much-needed privacy as she prepares a celebratory supper, trying very hard to ignore them.

Newt gets up at one point to drape his scarf around Tina's neck before dropping a tender kiss on her hair, and Queenie hides joyful tears when their shared contentment washes over her.

* * *

Come find me on Tumblr at katiehavok, if that's your thing.


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